


Just Say The Word

by notpmaHleM



Series: Between The Raindrops [10]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Modern AU, Modern Wedding in the Godswood, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 20:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15396465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notpmaHleM/pseuds/notpmaHleM
Summary: Companion piece for Between The RaindropsThe wedding





	Just Say The Word

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allegre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allegre/gifts).



> Hopefully this hits all the right emotional notes before it gets a bit more sweaty.
> 
> A thank you to jalen_mara for letting me send you a barely coherent message of rambling that I needed to get out, to help me sort this *waves hand at fic* out. If you ever need the favor returned, you know where to find me :)
> 
> To allegre- we miss your special brand of sunshine.

  

 

———————————————————

———————————————————

 

  
**_Take On The World_ **  
**_By You Me At Six_ **

 

 _You and I, we were made to thrive_  
_And I am your future, I am your past_  
_Never forget that we were built to last_  
_Step out of the shadows and into my life_  
_Silence the voices that haunt you inside_

  
_And just say the word, we'll take on the world_  
_And just say you're hurt, we'll face the worst_  
_Nobody knows you, the way that I know you_  
_Look in my eyes, I will never desert you_  
_And just say the word, we'll take on the world, we'll take on the world_

  
_And nobody knows you, the way that I know you_  
_And nobody knows you, the way that I know you_

  
_We'll fight, we'll crawl into the night_  
_Our world, we'll go, with you by my side_  
_The calm, the storm, we'll face it all_

  
_And just say the word, (just say the word)_  
_we'll take on the world_  
_we'll take on the world_

 

———————————————————  
———————————————————

 

“You should probably go.”

The scratchy slide of his beard around her mouth made his plump lips seem even softer, making her give a quiet sigh as he curled his tongue around hers.

“Why? Holdin’ out for your husband for your wedding night?”

She gave a sinuous roll in his lap, thighs squeezing around his hips, back arching as his hand slid up her shirt, cupping a breast to pluck carefully at the tip.

“I would hate for him to find out what a wanton woman I am.” She ran her hand up his back, feeling knots of muscles bunch with her touch. “At least until after he’s married me and can’t get away.”

His amused huff was felt against her neck, where his mouth had moved to and her head tilted at an angle, offering him more skin, her hands burying in his wild hair.

“I think he’ll enjoy it.”

  
The hands that had crept under her shirt, pulled it up and the sharp desperate need to feel his skin on hers, raked over her leaving her nerve endings alive. Any more of this and she would be dragging him to bed and enjoy the efforts of wringing pleasure from each other.

“I don’t know, he might be prudish.” She teased, pulling her head away, taking a deep breath to steel herself. “Okay, this time.....” she trailed off when he leaned forward, his mouth landing on her neck. Twisting a bit, she ground down with a whimper, shivering as his teeth caught in reaction.

Panting, he pulled away. “Why am I not sleeping with you? Who idea was this? It’s a terrible idea.”

Placing her hand over his mouth to stop him from diving back in, she shook her head trying to gather thoughts through her lusty haze. “Sansa said something about tradition.” Thinking of the baby growing in her, she smiled. It was too late to preserve some traditions. “Honestly I think it’s so we won’t have to use so much makeup to cover up beard rash. Which I’m always covered in, thanks to you.”

The sound of his chuckle was muffled when he buried his face between her breasts to create more marred skin, causing another wave of need to get naked, to go shuddering through her. Arching towards him, she sighed, fisting his hair to pull his mouth back to within reach, nip at his bottom lip.

Finally, with a noise of regret, he disentangled her hands from his hair, pulled her shirt back down and squeezed her ass. “If we really are going to sleep separately, which I’m still saying is ridiculous-“ the pout could be heard in his voice. “then I need to go now. I won’t make it much longer without having to be inside you.”

The image of that flooded her mind as the heat raced through her, feeling the wetness pool at her aching and obviously empty cunt. She whined at the absurdity of the situation and slowly climbed off, her legs shaky as a newborn foal. “That’s a dirty trick, saying that to me.”

The answering grin was wicked, it flickering for a moment as he adjusted himself. “I try what I can.” He cupped her face, thumbs sweeping over her cheekbones. “And besides the benefit of sex, I’m going to miss listening to you snore.”

She raised her chin, pushing at his chest, knowing he wasn’t going to budge. Faked haughty insult. “I do not snore.”

The air from his laugh moved across her forehead when he leaned in to press a kiss there. “You sound like one of your dragons.”

Eyes closed at the touch of his lips, she fisted his shirt, rising on her toes, offering her mouth up. Sighed as he took it, slow and sweet, making her chest ache for a whole other reason than lust.

Finally she let him go, stepping back to give him room to leave. With a defeated slump of shoulders he did and she leaned on the door-jam as he left. With full appreciation of his tight jeans, she also felt the thick layer of love, causing her to well up with tears, thankful to the gods she didn’t believe in, that they had found each other.

He stopped to look over his shoulder, dark eyes full of promise. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The anticipation simmered. The happiness bubbled.

“I’ll be there.”

 

———————————————————

 

The waiting was almost intolerable.

Waking up with Jon’s wolf at the foot of her bed wasn’t the same as waking up with the wolf she wanted in bed with her, but Ghost was a fair substitute, his tail wagging happily as she ruffled his fur. Knowing Jon must have peeked in on her at some point to let Ghost in, filled her with an easy happiness, the feeling of being well loved.

And later, when Missandei came in to find her with a rolling stomach, head hanging over the toilet, her friend gathered her hair back, rubbed her back soothingly while Ghost whined in distress, trying to shove his muzzle under her chin.

She let herself pout a bit before focusing on the reality of it all, _a few more hours until the rest of their lives_ , and then proceeded to bask in that wondrous feeling as she soaked in an oversized tub, trying to not watch the clock.

And now, as the hours ticked down, butterflies of anticipation and promise beating their wings with her ribcage, she let good natured bantering of the Stark sisters distract her.

“Are you nervous?”

Daenerys opened her eyes to shift her gaze over to Sansa. The redhead had been marching around Winterfell giving orders that made Dany briefly wonder why they hadn’t put her in charge of an army. She stretched in the chair she was lounged in and pondered the question, delving deep into the myriad of emotions flitting in her chest, in her head.

“No.”

And she wasn’t. She was a thousand other things, but as her hand went to rest on her still flat belly, the one thing she was absolutely sure of was marrying Jon.

“No?” Sansa gave a pleased smile as she sat down, reaching for the pins in her long red tresses.

“Not at all.” Dany shook her head, met her almost good sister’s eyes in the mirror. “I’ve been forced to marry before, so this time it is a novelty.” She gave a small laugh before sobering up. “I am so in love with him, even the bits about him that drive me absolutely crazy. I’ll take it all. He’s the best man I’ve ever known.”

“This is why I like her.” Arya held up the glass of wine she was sipping on. The younger Stark had been mostly silent while everyone was fussing around, but she now smiled, squishing herself into the chair with Dany. “You two are disgusting and I love it.”

“Just how many of those have you had to drink?” Dany laughed as Sansa nipped the glass from Arya and downed it to prevent her sister from taking it back.

“Not enough.” Arya pouted. “But honestly, welcome to the family Daenerys.”

“Thank you Arya.” It warmed her, knowing Jon’s favorite sibling, his fiercest defender, approved. “It is strange, I’ll admit.” She raised her arms above her head to stretch, careful to not muss the updo Missandei had fashioned for her. “I get to marry this time and be happy about it.” She made a face. “Though, having a whole day to prepare seems a bit much. I wouldn’t have kicked him out last night if I’d been thinking clearly.”

“Yeah, someone’s tongue down your throat tends to cloud your mind.” Arya’s tone was dry with sarcasm, her eyes rolling. “And news flash, the alcove outside your room, not exactly private.”

She felt the flush rise in her skin, cleared her throat, not exactly sure what to say. “I was distracted.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“Well, we would have been in private if someone would have let us.” Giving a shrug, she narrowed her eyes in mock annoyance.

“It’s tradition.” Sansa laughed, finishing up with her pins, taming flyaways back.

“I’m certain that ship has sailed. Quit a while ago.” Dany moved to her feet, thinking back fondly to the streak of jealousy that had her climbing into Jon’s lap that fateful night, setting this all in motion. Picking up an apple wedge, she nibbled, rebellious stomach currently quiet.

“Some traditions are overrated.” Arya sprawled out in the vacated chair, a slightly smug look on her face. “And changing the subject… when are you going to tell us?”

There was a thought of feigning confusion of what Arya was asking, of denying, though that was obviously not the correct step. Instead she gave a small laugh, let her shoulders roll forward. “You don’t want to wait for your brother to tell you?”

Arya looked a bit sheepish for a moment before giving a small snort. “No. Though I do appreciate the two of you trying to be subtle about this. It’s rather cute. And I know Missandei knows. She doesn’t look the least bit confused by this conversation.”

“Well, I am.” Sansa’s eyes were narrowed in annoyance, eyes flickering between the room occupants.

Dany gave a sigh, wondered how mad Jon was going to be about her telling them. “If Jon tells you before I tell him that I told you…. act surprised.”

“Enough with the suspense.”

Giving Arya her sternest look. “And… we are not ready to tell everyone yet. Keep that in mind.” Still she hesitated, her joy shadowed by the slightest _what if._

“You’re pregnant?”

A multitude of looks flickered over Sansa’s face as she finally caught on, making Dany recall some of the stories, mostly told by Arya, of how Jon was treated when he was young. She felt her spine straightening in defense. “Yes.”

“I’m going to be an Aunt!” There was a high pitch tone of excitement before Sansa turned to slap Arya’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t have pressured Daenerys into telling us before they were ready.”

“It’s not that we aren’t ready.” Apple slice down, she picked up a cracker, sat down on the bench. “We’ve been _busy_ these past two weeks. Something about ending a war and establishing a council to run Westeros.” She gave a small wave of her hand before settling into a more serious manner. “And I’m not sure Jon wants everyone to know before we are married.”

“It’s because of how he was treated.” Sansa offered up the information, even though everyone already knew it, her tone tinged with guilt and regret.

“That’s not going to happen here.” Missandei sat down next to Dany, threaded their fingers together.

Dany smiled at her best friend, heart full. “No it’s not. But we are still keeping everything as private as possible. We, more he, has to get used to being under a lot of public scrutiny. So we want to keep what we can, for us. And all of this is ours.” Laying her hand over her stomach she breathed through the surge of protectiveness. Jon, the babe, they were her ultimate reason for anything now. “And everyone will soon learn I will not stand for slights against my family.” It was a threat wrapped in a promise and she took a breath of air to steady herself.

“It doesn’t matter.” Arya shrugged. “Everythin’ is changing. Soon it won’t matter.”

“Not everything. People are still going to have their minds made up. Not that it’s right, but it’s still going to be there for a while.” Sansa’s mouth turned down with her words.

“It’s stupid.” Arya sneered, in the way only Arya could and Dany bit back a smile.

“You’re just hoping everything will hurry up and change because your too chicken to marry Gendry, like everyone would have pushed you to do, instead of running off to a war with him.” Sansa gave a pointed look at her sister. Daenerys was more than half convinced it was just because the two liked to argue.

“Well, I’m surprised you're not a little more concerned, since you’re fucking Pod and obviously not married.” Arya shrugged, gave a smug grin. “That’s a big change.”

Dany felt the surprise, glancing over to Sansa, who’s face was as red as her hair. She looked ready to murder her sister, Arya clearly winning this round.

Sansa picked imaginary lint off her sleeve. “It’s not serious. I like him, but it was more of a test to see if I could do it. To see if I could do it and enjoy it.”

“Podrick?” Dany raised an eyebrow, surprised at Sansa’s candidness, knowing her background.

“Podrick.” Sansa confirmed, face still a bit flushed but with a happy sparkle in her eye.

“Good for you.” Daenerys wouldn’t presume to think that everyone would find what she and Jon had, what she had found in him. The unwavering love. The comfort in trust, knowing she could hand over full control to him, knowing he wouldn’t take advantage of it, instead, using it to benefit the desires of both of them. It was a heady and powerful feeling. She hoped Sansa could find a measure of that.

Sansa’s smile was genuine. “I enjoy it.” She laughed. “A lot.”

“That’s all that matters.” Dany reaches out to put her hand over Sansa’s. “Do what you want, for however long you want. We make our own decisions.”

 _And the best decision in her life,_ Daenerys mused, finally slipping into her dress, _was to listen to Tyrion about an alliance with the north_.

  
———————————————————

 

But sometimes traditions were worth keeping.

Jon was a man of the north, from the intoxicating way his accent wrapped around her name, to his stubborn loyal heart and she knew some things were important. Knowing that he grew up with the old gods and their traditions, it was the easiest decision to make, that they would stand in front of his gods and pledge their forever.

She had been surprised, when they started making arrangements, Sansa put in charge of most of it, about the frown line that had appeared between his eyes, as if he thought some things were too good to be true. She had questioned him, in the safety of their bed. It was tradition, he told her, that the head of household would normally marry them. There was no doubt that he mourning the loss of his father, a joyous event marked by missing family. She understood it to a degree, though she had never lost loving family, she had still lost and came up with a plan. And she told him, in between slow and lazy touches, meant to comfort, cuddling him close and suggesting someone else.

Davos might not hold the same faith and he might have started out as an advisor, but Dany knew the grizzled man had grown from that role, adopting the Stark children as his own, gathering up whomever he could, father to the eclectic mass of them.

It was as easy as a piece of paper for him, both he and Jon stoically quiet about the arrangement as it was decided and everything set, readied and waiting, their official marriage papers signed.

But right now, none of that mattered, or was remembered.

Because it was just her, standing at the edge of the Godswood, her heart beating steadily knowing Jon was just hidden past the green foliage, just inside the nightfall, waiting.

The path that she would take to the heart tree was lit by candles, the warm flickering casting small shadows showing the way to where the other half of her heart stood patiently. She moved silent and steady, unwilling to break the stillness surrounding the magic of it all, until Jon came into view, gorgeous and welcoming. She could see the softness of his smile, inky eyes shiny and felt the answering flutter in her chest, heart expanding and suddenly he was too far away from her.

Managing to hold herself together with dignity, barely, she squared her shoulders, feeling her mouth twitch up as she steadily walked towards him. When she reached his side, finally, he held out his arm and she slid her hand in it, everything inside of her wanting to throw herself fully into his arms.

His fingers closed around hers and she relaxed into his warm touch, his shy smile touching all the parts of her that were once hidden, now exposed for him to sift through as he helped her let the light in.

It was heady and overwhelming, the love contained inside of her thrumming through her veins as he gently squeezed his hand, her heart stumbling as he said the words to her, stealing her breath with his intensity, his earnesty, his _love_.

She tried to return it to him, to let him understand the fire that raged inside her, a wildfire in a dry forest, all the feelings she had for him, burning hot and wild and unstoppable. Her voice shook, his image became blurred, her furious blinking only distorting, until she gave a watery laugh, Jon’s thumbs sweeping under her eyes, his smile lighting up the night air.

When he shook out the cloak hanging over his arm, her favorite part of the Northern traditions, her body wanted to vibrate out of her skin, butterflies and impatience and _joy_ wrapping her up just as he wrapped her up in his cloak.

Breaking out of the rehearsed steps, she tilted her head up, needing the taste of him on her lips before they finished. He reciprocated, light and lingering, under the cloak, his hand skimming down her arm, the gesture familiar, welcome as he threaded their fingers back together.

She heard his intake of breath as they pulled apart, his forehead dropping to hers for a heartbeat, then he turned them.

His palm was rough as they knelt together in front of the tree, her rough strewn warrior with the endless heart, closing dark lashes, fingers tightening their clasp. She wasn’t sure if Jon stilled prayed to his gods but she thought maybe should try, not sure if she could possibly put into words, the feelings in her heart.

And in no time, he was pulling her to her feet, elation radiating from him as he gathered her in close. Her eyes closed when his lips touched hers, soft and plump and familiar, she felt the tingle run up her spine, in the ends of her fingers where they met the skin of his neck.

“Ao issi ñuhon sir, valzȳrys.” She breathed her claim into his mouth, opening her eyes as he cupped her face, looking at her as if she was something precious, something exotic. It made her want to melt right into him.

“I was your’s long before this, love.”

 

  
———————————————————

 

The music started playing as soon as they entered the great hall. Giddiness filled her as Jon turned to her, eyes warm, smile full and pulled her into his arms, settling her against him.

“You’re going to willingly dance?”

“Aye. It is our wedding after all.”

And with his words she went up on her toes, letting him lead as she threaded her fingers into his hair, captured his mouth, settling against his body, the warmth soaking into her as he gently swayed them.

“How does it feel?” She nestled into the crook of his neck, letting her senses fill with the scent of him, like a drug entering her bloodstream.

“Dany…..”

It was a choked sound, so much emotion packed into her name that she blinked in surprise, lifted her head up to look up him.

And then he caught her chin with his finger and thumb, holding her there with his gaze, making her dizzy with the intensity of it. “You, Daenerys Targaryen-“

“Snow.” It was a quiet reminder as she ran her finger down his nose, tapped lightly on the end. “Daenerys Targaryen Snow.”

“Are you sure you want to take that? It’s an ugly name.”

“It’s your name so how can that be ugly?” _How did a man who healed her, always manage to break her heart?_ “I’m a Snow now. Our child will be. And I think that’s the best thing ever.”

His smile was slightly disbelieving, mostly joyous. “Snow, then... You-“ His hand traced down until it was resting right above where their child was. “the babe…. you’re my world, my love. Know that… always.”

Tears welled up her eyes and she put her hand over his, laced their fingers together and brought them up to nestle under her breast as they gently swayed together. “If I had to, I’d give it all up, everything for you.” With a watery voice she placed her other hand over his cheek, wanting, hoping he could feel how much he was loved. “You have no idea what I would do to keep you, keep us.”

“Well, we’re here. Let’s not muck it up.”

Leaning in, she brushed her mouth over his, contrasting sensations when he pulled her closer, his teeth settling in her bottom lip before letting go. She let her eyelashes flutter against the overwhelming love, her thumb rubbing over his swollen mouth as she made him a promise.

“We won’t.”

She laughed when he dipped her, mouth moving to her pulse as the crowd cheered around them.

 

  
———————————————————

 

“Thank you Davos.”

As a general rule, she wasn’t an affectionate person, Jon being her only exception. She needed to maintain an image, the stoic ruler, serious and unswayable.

But Davos was standing there, watching the gathering of their family with an air of wistfulness, a touch of pride and she couldn’t help but throw her arms around him.

He patted her back as she squeezed him, causing her to blink back another bout of happy tears and he chuckled when he caught sight of them. “There is no need to thank me lass. It was a privilege.”

Content and grateful, she leaned into his side, watching everyone around them laugh and dance. Unwelcoming thoughts of her marriage to Drogo invaded her mind, the heat, the dust, the bloodshed. How absolutely terrified she had been.  _I don’t want to be his Queen_. But the familiar sound of her beloved’s chuckle brought her back to the present, to the _now_.

He was talking to Grey Worm, the easy smile on his face, eyes crinkled in humor and it filled her chest with light. Somehow amidst all the chaos surrounding the world, their paths had intertwined and she didn’t have the words for how much he meant to her.

“So, I know you two are keeping in quiet for now, but since I’m going to be an honorary grandfather, when is the bundle of joy going to be here?”

She looked up in surprise, Davos’ smile making her own lips twitch. “This winter.”

“Just in time for a new year and new beginning then. Seems to be wonderful timing.”

She snorted with amusement. “Lucky timing.”

“I think it is just when it needs to be.” Davos let her go, giving her a pat on the arm. “Your lad is looking for you now, so I’ll leave you be.”

Jon was approaching, his heart in his eyes and she felt the flutter in her own heart in response. When he held out his hand, she took it, stepping into him, snuggling up close, her ear pressed to his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

_The one to love._

 

  
———————————————————

 

  
The great hall was buzzing with voices, everyone sitting down to eat. Dany flashed a grateful smile at Arya when her new good sister cleverly swapped out the glass of champagne for apple cider, none the wiser. Jon’s hand cupped the back of her neck, scars dragging over her spine, his thumb rubbing a maddening circle over her pulse.

Nibbling on food, she tried to hold up her end of conversations, fully aware of the shift in the air, the overwhelming bliss settling back to make room for the underlying theme of them, the basic of elements of desire and communication, the urge to claim and take and give.

“So tell me, was the wolf tamed, or the dragon?” Looking up she found Tormund across from her, the man’s persistent teasing of Jon never slowing down.

She refrained rolling her eyes. “He’s certainly not tamed.”

Tormund nodded to Jon, who was doing an excellent impression of not listening to them. “He says the same about you.”

She smiled.

“I taught him everything he knows.”

She coughed, briefly thinking of what they did together. “I highly doubt that.”

The redhead raised his furried eyebrows. “Maybe just the most important part.” He turned to Jon who was now watching the proceedings with a mixture of amusement and dread. “Remember, baby seals Lord Crow.”

“Get on with you.” Jon laughed, waving a hand.

As Tormund left, Dany was delighted to see the tips of his ears red, where they peeked through his curls. “Do I even want to know what he was talking about?”

He dipped his face down, humor in his eyes. “It’s never been a problem for us, but I’ll explain later.”

 

  
———————————————————

 

  
The night went on

Her new husband was in good spirits, into a few cups of ale, but pacing himself as she had whispered cheekily, _you’d better not disappoint_ , to him at the beginning of the wedding feast. He had taken the warning to heart and had changed the game, determined on teasing her.

Sipping out of her glass, she tried to ignore the fingers that were trailing up the inside of her thigh, leaving a path of fire is his wake, not giving into the satisfaction of slamming her legs together. Somehow he had worked her dress up dangerously high, giving him access to all the bare flesh that he wanted. If anyone dropped anything under the table and retrieved it, they’d catch the scandalous sight of Jon’s fingers tracing over the delicate lace covering her most intimate of parts.

Suddenly he leaned in, letting his beard scratch along her neck, making her shiver, her eyelashes flutter as he murmured low and seductive, accent dragging out vowels.

“Give me your underclothes.”

“What?” Her pulse kicked up.

“You heard me. Panties off love. I want them.”

Pulling back a bit, he fixed her with a steely stare and she tried not to whimper and wilt under it, her traitorous body ready to do his bidding.

“No.” She made her voice sterner than she felt, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her reaction down at the look on his face. He looked ready to bend her over his knee. The air rattled in her lungs at the thought, the clothing in question growing damp between her open thighs.

A finger hooked through the fabric and he gave a light pull, his nail scratching against the soft seam of her. The heat in her limbs fled south, concentrating down to a mass in her womb.

“Now Daenerys.”

The low whine was lost in the sea of noise and she bit her lip, ready to leave _now_ , sneak into an empty room and let him have his way with her. A subtle shift and she lifted up the off hip, trying to be unnoticeable as she pushed the wanted item over her, wriggling to get them off the other. Looking around, Jon’s heated stare making her nipples pucker, she worked them down her thighs, infuriated that his _atta gir_ l settled with an ache in her cunt, her panties finally falling around her ankles.

Getting them off one ankle was difficult, but she managed, crossing her leg and letting them dangle off her heel like a prize. His whispered _good_ as he neatly pulled them off, hand skimming up her calf and higher, fingers pushing enough space between her thighs for him to thumb at her sensitive nub, before placing the trophy in his pocket. Content with his token, he placed his arm over the back of her chair, letting his fingers dangle over her shoulder, driving her mad with the barely there touches at her clavicle.

Closing her legs back up, ignoring the slow pulse of hot arousal at her core, she tried to tune back into the conversations around her. But Jon wasn’t done yet, content in his slow process of driving her mad. Soft lips were pressed to her temple, making her eyes close with the sweetness of her, a sudden gasp when his hand slid back between her thighs and nudged them open, fingers gently tapping against her slit.

When he pulled his head back she tilted to look at him, take in his smirk, the heat in his eyes. Those eyes crossing when she trapped the hand in the small space, her head rolling as if her joints too loose to hold up her head when a finger sank into her.

With a bite to her lip, she let him have his hand back, not sure how much more she could take when he popped his finger into his mouth quickly, taking the evidence of her arousal off of it.

“Jon.” It was a whine.

Dark eyes gave a quick look around, noting that nobody was focused on them, and her belly tightened as Jon laced their fingers together, sliding her discreetly out of her seat and tucking her under his arm.

They made it down the long hall to his room before she couldn’t stand in any longer. Stopping suddenly, she yanked on him, knowing he’d move with it and pressing him into the wall, demanding his mouth.

He gave it to her with a rumble in his throat, rolling them until the door jam dug into her back, his tongue parting her lips deftly, invading and ruining like only he could.

A whine left her when he pulled away, his dark eyes gone black with lust, making her forget how to move her legs. His arm banded around her, spinning her until his chest was to her back, the solid warmth of him a jolt to her lusty system.

She was expecting him to hustle her through the door. Take her hard and fast with the built up tension spurring them on. But apparently he was satisfied in dragging out the torture, intent on unspooling her before he even fully touched her.

Body pressed to the door by his weight, she could feel the outline of his arousal against her buttocks, his hand dragging her dress upwards to slick across her, cup her gently making her whine and wriggle.

“You are so ready love. Feel.”

It didn’t matter that they were standing in the hall, where anyone could happen by and see them. She was unable to think about that, instead only able to focus on the rush within her. With his words, she brought a hand up, testing her wetness with light fingers, another flood of heat at finding herself ripe, swollen and ready for his cock. She rolled her hips back into him, pressing against him, reveling in the rough groan pulled from him.

Teeth set in the back of her neck, a sharp bite to still her, his hips, beginning a slow grind into her backside, his fingers guiding hers in slow sweeps that parted her slit, glancing gently off her nub, the pressure building low and hot.

Nerves were strung tight, ready to snap, her cries building in crescendo, when he pulled their hands back suddenly, opened the door, catching her as she stumbled as they went through. She was trying to catch her breath when he caught the back of her neck, hauling her up on her toes, white teeth flashing as he nipped at her lips.

Everything about her was kept off balance by him, so slick with arousal she could feel it dripping down her thighs, her tongue curling around his in effort to goad him into further action. She heard the door being kicked shut, her fingers working on the buttons on his shirt, his hands tangled hopelessly in her hair, her blood singing for him.

Abandoning his shirt in her frenzy, she cupped him through his pants, hissing against his mouth at the feel of his arousal, eyelashes batting as he whimpered at her touch. Concentrating on that sound, she popped open the button, sucking on his bottom lip before letting go and dropping to her knees.

He was looking down at her, dark eyes glinting as she fumbled with his pants. That succulent mouth turned up in a smirk as she tugged, a knotted mess of wanton need and she snarled in return, picturing that plump mouth red and glistening from her cunt.

With a fist wrapping in her hair, he gave a rough pull and she went, the sharp sting of pain adding another gush of wet between her thighs, her nose brushing into black springy hair. She opened her mouth.

The lusty growl reverberated above her as the soft skin of a hard cock was thrust between her puffy lips. Flicking her tongue the length of him, she hummed, creating suction as she moved down, fighting the urge to tense, breathing through her nose, swallowing him into her throat, holding him there.

With watering eyes she released him, giving herself a moment to pull in air, bobbing back down with hollowed cheeks, keeping herself balanced with her hands on his thighs.

A haze of lust settled floated around her as she set about her enjoyable task, the power currently shifted to her, knowing once he got his hands on her it would be over. And she wanted him floundering and undone first, wanted to see how his eyes blurred and his muscles relaxed after she’d wrung him out. She used every trick she knew, every ounce of knowledge that she’d learned about him, her tongue flicking with her continued movement, listening to Jon’s rattled breaths.

She backed off, admiring the red sheen of his wet cock, the string of saliva still connecting them. Looking up she caught his helpless stare, his corded neck, his plea of her name. Ignoring the discomfort in her jaw, the weeping of her cunt, she cupped his weight, rolling and tugging gently, wrapping his length tightly between her lips and sucking down. The fingers in her hair tightened in warning and she watched him throw his head back, voice hoarse through gritted teeth, exploding, filling her mouth.

Keeping her eyes on him, she held still letting him thrust at the pace of his choosing, letting him twitch and still before releasing him, letting some of his seed spill over her lips before catching it with her fingers. He made a strangled noise, pupils blown wide, looking wrecked as she kept his gaze, swallowed his release, then licked it off her fingers.

He fell back against the door with a groan, hands still hovering if he didn’t know where to put them and she just smiled, used his thighs to balance as she climbed back into her feet, his hands settling around her hips as she finished unbuttoning his shirt.

When he moved forward, shrugging the shirt off, his undershirt peeled off over his head, she gave a cry of delight, hands moving across his chest, mapping familiar territory with glee.

He caught her hands, kissed her palms before wrapping his arms around her. “Well, you’ve ruined me for a while.”

There was a tangle inside of her, the threads of love and affections, tied neatly into lust and need and she closed her eyes as he molded his hands over her hips, whispering to her how beautiful she was, how much he wanted her.

He helped her out of her dress slowly, fingers dragging over bared flesh, beard scraping against sensitive skin as he placed open mouthed kisses over her clavicle. It was making her strung out, her skin stretched tight over her bones, a pulsing emptiness in her cunt.

When she was down to her strapless bra, she let her head roll back, large hands cupping her heavier breasts, sucking bites at the uncovered flesh. She anchored herself on his shoulders, letting him get rid of the last barrier of clothing between them.

Instead of their bodies being pulled together, he moved away suddenly, leaving her off balanced, standing alone in the center of the room. He moved to the bed, pale flesh over rippling muscle, letting her shamelessly ogle. He pulled back the covers and she twitched, making herself stand there and wait.

“Today, looking at you, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” His voice was low and heavy, slurred if he was drunk or sleepy as he settled in against the pillows, an arm tucked behind his head, eyes hooded by dark lashes

The warmth of his words washed through her, tangled with everything inside she has for him, love, lust. Made her feel a little high on it. “You were quite the sight standing down there waiting for me. Dark and handsome.” His hum was slow, causing her to sharpen her gaze. “Are you getting ready to fall asleep?”

His eyes snapped open, a change coming over him, tension running through muscles until he looked like a predator with its prey cornered. “What kind of husband would I be if I left my wife unsatisfied on our wedding night? Come over here love so I can rough you up a bit.”

The ache was still there, the one that started at their wedding table, that had been sharpened by his cock in her mouth and she was long past ready to ease that ache.

Sliding down the bed a bit more, he gave her a look, long and lingering, making her stomach knot with need.

“C'mere Dany.”

She went, knees on the mattress as his hands roved, cupped and fondled, roughened skin touching delicately, creating sparks as she threw a leg over him, whimpered as he hauled her forward. Sitting up to meet her, his mouth closed around the sensitive tip of her breast, the tug with his teeth echoing down to her womb and she clutched his hair, holding him in place. He switched to the other, giving it the same treatment causing the inferno to roar inside her, all the teasing keeping her strung out.

With a final suck, he brought his head up, eyes so close it was dizzying. Nose to nose he cupped her face, fingers digging in at the back of her skull and she sighed, sweet and languid as he slowly took over her mouth. Her head was hazy, her thumb brushing the scar over his eye, body buzzing with his long thorough kisses, her hips doing a slow dirty grind onto his reawakening cock.

There was a hiss in her mouth, his tongue curling behind her teeth before he fell back flat to the bed. She was soft and supply, drugged on the taste and feel of Jon as he moved her up with no troubles, settling himself below the apex of her thighs where she was plump and ripe, ready for his succulent mouth.

“Sweetest cunt ever.”

Bracing against the headboard, she let out a high pitch whine as a finger trailed down her thigh, another volley of sensation marching through her, leaving her rather desperate for the type of relief he could provide.

“And it’s all mine.”

Possessive words were emphasized with his mouth sealing over her, pulling, demanding and she twisted, seeking, her body shuddering with finally having him where she needed him.

The first swipe of his tongue made her thighs tremble, a hand letting go of the headboard to tangle in his riot of curls, his beard scratching soft skin. A rough hand cupped a buttock, helping hold her weight as she gave him broken cries in answer to the pulling of his mouth, the heat expanding through her, making the knot inside pull tight.

He was impossibly skilled, an adept student, a proficient teacher and he worked her over quickly, fingers invading, stretching, rubbing, her throaty moans almost choking her as the knot started to fray. A wet and probing thumb slid into the tight ring of her ass, pulling a noise of forbidden excitement and she looked down, dark eyes looking ravenous as they stared back, perfect lips wrapped around her sensitive nub and sucked. She snapped, body curling up as white heat flowed through her, propped up by his strength only as she convulsed with pleasure, a hoarse scream accompanying it.

Finally she slumped, trying to catch her breath as he nibbled softly overwhelming raw nerves until she collapsed to the side, narrowly missing hitting Jon’s nose with her knee. He didn’t seem to notice as he wiped his face with a hand, lips plump and used, beard shining with her essence as he petted her sides, encouraging her body to unfurl.

Her mind was still spinning, her chest heaving as Jon cooed her name, nuzzling gently as he moved over her, going from the demanding wolf to gentle lover in the space of heartbeats. She could barely keep up, reduced to mindless need and want, no clear thoughts able to form..

Her skin slide along his, the sensitive tips of breasts catching on scar tissue, the heat flooding between her thighs. It was intoxicating, every point along her body awash in sensations, the dizziness as his mouth claimed soft skin. Limbs gathered around him as he settled into the cradle of her hips, his cock nudging at where it belonged and she gave a hum, his beard scratching around her neck, before moving up, his soft lips a treat as they formed to hers.

Pulling noises of want from her, his tongue enticed and she didn’t even realize she was rocking her hips up to him until he gave a quick snap of his, burying his cock to the hilt. She gave him a drawn out moan, muffled by his lips as he ground down shoving impossibly deeper and she arched, the thin edge of pain being drown out with pleasure.  
  
“Now, can I rough you up a bit?”

His voice was strained, rocking small sharp movements into her and she was suddenly sobbing her permission, desperate as he hooked his arms under her knees, pulling back enough to get her legs over his shoulders. She twisted under the sea of sensation, knowing this angle would cause him to test her boundaries of what she could take.

Grabbing for his back, but unable to get a good hold of him, her hands fell uselessly to the side, twisting her fingers into the sheets as Jon hiked her hips up higher, rutting down into her .

“Too much?”

His words came out on a groan, the dark look on his face causing her to clench around him. She shook her head no, giving a little cry, caught between anguish and bliss with his cock splitting her open. Biting her lip, fighting the impulse to move, waiting for him, she fisted the pillow under her head, all his pale flesh and lean muscle tantalizing, but out of reach.

The strained look crossed back over his face as he tilted his head to place a soft gentle kiss on her calf, a mummery for what he was going to do to her, then leaned his weight into her legs, rounding her spine, causing her hips to lift higher. She sucked in a breath, fingers flexing in the fabric.

He twisted his hips, causing her to give in, to whimper and wiggle in his hold, needing him. Needy. The black of his gaze caught her, the weight of it stilling her frantic attempts, holding her prisoner, until something inside him seemed to snap. He withdrew enough to give a hard lunge back into her, his strength behind it, his cock bottoming out at the back of her taunt channel.

The cry ripped from her throat, her body bending under his weight, the force of his thrusts sounding against her flesh, where his met hers, echoing through the room. It was perfect and raw, her body greedily absorbing every deep press back into her. Dark lashes fluttered above her, captivating, her walls clenching around him, the pounding in her ears getting louder as he pushed her towards her end.

Finally she was able to dig her nails into his shoulders, sobbing in delirium, toes starting to curl under the pressure, his fingers catching her nub in a well practiced move. It was the only thing she knew, the feeling of Jon everywhere, making her high, surrounding her, until it was too much, the force of it cracking her open, being caged in his arms the only thing keeping her together as she thrashed under his relentless pounding, vision blurring, exaltation flowing from her.

He kept rhythm while she shook around him, dragging his cock through fluttering tight walls, let her ride it out. As she came down, he dropped her legs off his shoulders, scooped a hand under her back, holding her still as he chased after her, his guttural groans falling across her face as the warmth of him flooded inside of her.

Pulling at him, she caught him as he dropped into her chest, her legs useless and shaky as she managed to hook them behind his thighs, keeping him prisoner in her embrace while they both shuddered and quivered, gulping air into straining lungs.

She was ready when his head dipped down, a light teasing brush against her lips, a sharp bite before his tongue was flicking, asking permission and she granted it, sighing in relief when her mouth was properly invaded. When he pulled slightly back, his lips still against hers, but no pressure, she let her eyelids flutter open, looking directly into eyes, soft and warm and full of…

“I love you.” His nose bumped hers, the movement of his words tickling.

Her heart gave an answering stutter and she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him against her, emotions swamping over her. “Nyke jorrāelagon ao, Jon. Sīr olvie ziry’s qopsa naejot paghagon rȳ jēdi.”

Even so close, his smile was brilliant and she closed her eyes again, bringing her tongue out to trace over his bottom lip. She was ready when he dove back in to kiss her slow and thoroughly, making her toes curl into his calves.

Finally, breathless, she pulled away, licking her lips for the taste, letting him roll off of her and settle into the mattress. She dropped her forehead to his shoulder while he looped threads of her hair around his fingers.

“Shouldn’t I be the one telling you pretty things?”

Digging her nails into his arm, she fought back the wave of tears, not wanting him to get the wrong idea of why she was crying. “You give me love. The type of love they write stories about. So, no I don’t need pretty words from you, I just need you.”

His tucked tangled hair behind her ear, pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice rough when he spoke. “You’ll never be rid of me.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Valyrian-
> 
> Ao issi ñuhon sir, valzȳrys - You are mine now, husband.
> 
> Nyke jorrāelagon ao, Jon. Sīr olvie ziry’s qopsa naejot paghagon rȳ jēdi- I love you, Jon. So much it’s difficult to breathe at times.


End file.
